


Bettering the Odds

by randi2204



Series: Steampunk!Seven [19]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: 2K Round-up Challenge, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-12 23:56:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randi2204/pseuds/randi2204
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The things Ezra does for this town...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bettering the Odds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Todesengel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Todesengel/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** These boys belong to MGM, Mirisch and Trilogy, not me. I just like having fun.

“Ezra.”  Mother’s voice was sharp, the way it got when he’d worn out her patience, and Ezra stared down at the cogs and springs and tools spread across the counterpane rather than see how angry she was.

 

“I’m sorry, Mother,” he mumbled.  He ran his fingers over one of the gears, then quickly snatched his hand back, as if that would keep her from noticing.  It had been a clockwork toy, before he’d used Mother’s jeweler’s tools to pry it apart.  The little drawing he’d made on a scrap of paper showed how he’d been trying to make more space inside it.  “I just…” he blurted, looking up, and stopped himself on seeing her frown, and turned away again, blinking.  “I thought maybe I’d be able to hide somethin’ inside, somethin’ small…”

 

He heard her sigh.  “Ezra, darlin’,” Mother said, and her tone was sweet now, that cajoling tone she used when she was trying to get some gentleman interested in her con.  “What have I told you about taking things apart?”

 

“That I only need to understand how to things work, not make them better,” Ezra repeated dutifully.  He peered up at her through his eyelashes in a way he knew she found appealing.

 

She smiled at him and patted his cheek.  “That’s right, my boy.  Now, it’s perfectly all right to be familiar with engineering theories – that knowledge might just be what sways an investor with deep pockets, and it never, ever hurts to sound learned about somethin’ all scientific.  But while engineers may make _things_ , they never truly make things _happen_ in this world.  Why, they end up destitute more often than not!  You don’t want that to happen, do you, Ezra?”

 

Mute, eyes wide, Ezra shook his head.

 

“So we’ll have no more of this… tinkering,” Mother said, voice brisk.  “Throw that all away, Ezra, this very moment, then come with me.  You haven’t been practicing counting cards, and it shows.”

 

***

It was long after midnight when Ezra slipped into the church.  The floorboards beneath his feet trembled – not from his footsteps, but from the rattle and thump of the machinery in Josiah’s workshop below.  Sometimes he wondered how Josiah could sleep with all the racket.

 

 _Perhaps to him, it takes on the soothing sound of a lullaby,_ he thought with a smirk.

 

The trapdoor behind the altar was open, a glow akin to that of Hell rising in the darkness.  With a glance toward the side room that Josiah used for sleeping when he remembered, Ezra climbed down the ladder.

 

The stories JD had been bringing back to the rest of them about the new invention Josiah was working on were… disturbing.  _Alarming_ , when he considered the way Chris had paled at JD’s description.  Even JD seemed doubtful that his mad master was fully cognizant of the risks this time.

 

The furnace gave off the dull orange light he’d seen from above.  A lantern hung off the side of the ladder on a hook, and he turned it up slightly, just enough to make his way to Josiah’s workbench.  The plans for… whatever it was were laid out there, all measurements and angles and Josiah’s notations in his surprisingly neat handwriting.  There were smudges of coal dust, too, around the edges of the paper, but the plan itself was unmarred.

 

Ezra sighed quietly.  _The things I do…_ He sought pencil and ruler that Josiah used to draw his plans and started carefully changing the angles and lines – not drastically, barely enough to notice, but hopefully just enough that when Josiah tried to build it, it would fail.

 

He’d done it before, a time or two, whenever Chris got that look on his face he’d gotten today.  _Oh, all right,_ he admitted silently, copying Josiah’s bold notations with minor changes, _and to change the odds on the betting pool_ once _._

 

He couldn’t keep up with them, didn’t have Josiah’s love of the craft, nor JD’s intuitive leaps, didn’t have their innate understanding of how everything worked.  He just knew how things _fit_ sometimes.

 

As he worked, ears alert for Josiah’s heavy footsteps, Ezra could hear his mother’s voice echo down the long years.  _Engineers end up destitute…_

 

He didn’t regret he had listened to her.  Except sometimes, when he let himself get caught up in Josiah’s discourse.  When JD’s enthusiasm reminded him too much of his own young self.

 

When, sometimes, he woke up alone, having dreamt of cogwheels and springs and putting something back together so it’d work _better_ …

 

***

March 18, 2013

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Todeskun, who asked me _Soooo want to write me a steampunk!Seven fic with Ezra rearranging the odds of one of Josiah's creations to be more in his favor? Or maybe something pre-show with Maude? *flirts outrageously*_. And it ended up being a little bit of both. :)


End file.
